


on a white horse

by Fiction_Over_Fact



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Overwatch, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Getting Together, M/M, this fic technically takes place in a coffee shop, very briefly but it is there
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-19
Updated: 2018-09-19
Packaged: 2019-07-14 06:47:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,610
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16035164
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fiction_Over_Fact/pseuds/Fiction_Over_Fact
Summary: Jesse isn’t exactly the picture of a damsel in distress and Genji might not look very much like a knight but hey, chivalry is chivalry.





	on a white horse

**Author's Note:**

> Unbeta-ed like all my stuff, as well as being my first (published) OW fic.  
> It's so _weird_ to post McGenji now. I started shipping it when there were less than 100 fics, never finished any of my shit and now there’s almost 1k. I feel like an old and new part of the fandom at once, it's strange.
> 
> Inspired by a prompt that was basically "Character A gets into an awkward social situation and Character B has to bail them out." But...I wrote most of this like two years ago, so it's long gone.
> 
> *Rated T entirely because I can't stop myself (or characters I'm writing) from cursing. Fuck.
> 
>  **Edit, 9-24-18** : Fixed some grammar errors, smoothed out some sentences (and fixed Reaper bug that let him teleport to unintended locations). All that good stuff.

Shadows crawled down the side of the mesa, masking the thin skeletons of near dead cacti; the lone sunbeam cutting through the storm clouds cleaving through the dark. The cowboy far below across the plain could barely be seen in the last remnants of the light, alone but for his horse and the wispy cloud of dirt kicked up behind them, lit reddish gold in the dying light.

Jesse frowned, wiggling the stylus in his hand.

Was it too dark? Maybe he should add more sunlight, or would just lightening the shadows work? He didn’t want the cowboy to totally disappear, but the author had stressed that subtly was important. Maybe save this version, lighten up a different one and send both out for her opinion?

He chewed at the toothpick in his mouth, rolling the grainy wood between his teeth as he looked over his latest illustration.

The clamor of the  _Wolfhound_  sounded around him, the tink of mugs brushing and the low groans and whines of chairs pulled across the floor as people came and went. The mid-morning crowd wasn’t particularly thick, thankfully. It never really was, the hybrid coffeeshop-diner appeal of the place meant more consistent crowds with less of the before-work and during mealtime rushes either type of place usually got.

A small splashing sound drew his attention up from his tablet and he smiled at the waitress once she’d finished pouring his coffee. She winked back, titling into a small half-curtsy with her free hand and her dark green apron.

Trying to read the font of her name tag was enough to cross his eyes but he’d been coming to the  _Wolfhound_  for long enough that he was pretty sure  _Sandy_ / _Candy_  was his favorite person in the world. Even though she refused to tell him what her actual name was, no matter how politely he asked.

“You look cute when you’re confused,” she’d always tell him instead of answering.

Today she just walked off once he had his drink, laughing a little, so Jesse turned back to his tablet, a smile tugging at his own mouth.

He decided to put off the lighting issue in the center and add more detail to the outer storm clouds.

Productive procrastination was the best kind, after all.

A hand grabbed his shoulder as his stylus touched the screen, making him drag a thick line through the cloudbank. He cursed, reaching over with his other hand to undo the damage.

The asshole that grabbed him paid his irritation no mind.

“That’s pretty good. You draw?”

He craned his head back to look at the man standing behind him—mid to late twenties, pretty good shape with a bit of a cliché movie nerd look to him due to the stuffed pocket protector in his shirt. He was tall too, a lot like Jesse himself.

A good few inches taller, actually. Jesse would consider himself winning the genetic draw between them though, since he was undoubtedly better looking and more well mannered than this fuck.

The ratty nest of unbrushed brown hair that this stranger had tried, and failed, to bleach blond and unnaturally small amount of blinking were doing him no favors either.

Despite the interruption Jesse held on to the manners that his grandma had drilled into him at a young age (and Jack had never quite been able to unteach him).

“Thanks, and yeah I’m an illustrator.”

The guy kept his hand on Jesse’s should for a few more seconds, staring intently down at him before abruptly letting go.

For a moment Jesse thought he was saved but then the man sat down across from him at the table, jostling his legs so forcefully he jolted forward and almost knocked his coffee onto his tablet.

Ignorant to (or just ignoring) the disaster he’d almost caused, the guy leaned forward as well, as though he thought Jesse had willingly moved closer to him. Which, no, not going to happen.

“That’s nice, I’m Brady. I’m always telling my friends we need people who’re interested in…artsy stuff like that.”

He managed to say  _art_  in a way that implied it wasn’t a keystone of human development, one of man’s oldest creations and one of the things that made life worth living.

More than the creepy axe murderer stare, the dye job that would probably make Jack cry or the unnecessary touching  _that_  was what drove Jesse up the wall.

“I could draw pretty well when I was younger but then I realized I should probably do something more important with my life, you know? Something substantial.”

Jesse clenched his jaw and smiled through gritted teeth.

 _Do not punch this asshole in the face, do not punch this asshole in the face_ , he scolded himself.

“Yeah, I can understand that.”

He couldn’t.

 _If you’re ever talking to someone you absolutely don’t want to speak with and you can’t leave make them talk about themselves_ , he remembered Gabe telling him, back when he got his first job.

It was sound advice and had done him well many times over the years since.

 _It’s less work and you don’t have to pay as much attention_ , Jack had added as his two cents.

Jesse had found that to be true as well.

“What is it that you do now?” Jesse forced himself to ask. His voice sounded only mildly strangled and, despite the circumstances, he took a bit of pride in his own composure, since it was very much fake.

Fuckwad stared at him, eyes wide and a little startled.

Jesse hoped it was because he picked up on the venom underneath the politeness of his words, and not because he was so thrilled to have someone so interested in what he had to say that they actually asked him a question.

That, regrettably, did not seem to be the case.

“Well, actually I don’t currently have a job. My uncle got me on with some friend of a friend but she refused to up my salary even after two of the other workers quit just after I was hired.”

 _Wow. What a shock that must have been_ , Jesse thought. He felt his smile crack a little because _seriously_ how was it humanly possible to be that self-centered?

“I tried to bargain with her for vacation days instead but the fat bitch wouldn’t listen to me so I left,” he continued, seeming to think Jesse genuinely cared what he was saying. “And it’s not like she knew better than me! Woman that young shouldn’t be left in charge of anything. Currently I’m looking for a programmer for my app idea—“

Jesse tuned out then, only bothering to nod at what were, presumably, the right moments.

It didn’t really matter if they weren’t though, since Jesse couldn't care less about this asshole’s feelings. After several minutes of not really listening to the guy drone on about himself with no prompting Jesse was rather out of fucks to give.

He’d just wanted to get the print done _without_ having to listen to the neighbors above his apartment argue about their dissolving marriage all day. Again.

His phone buzzed on the table and he leaned forward to grab it but his hand was intercepted by Fuckwad’s. Half the reason he got to it first was Jesse freezing in astonishment at the fucking nerve of this asshole.

“It’s rude to answer the phone while you’re talking to someone, you know,” he lectured, sliding a finger across Jesse’s phone to see the text preview.

Jesse’s mouth dropped open just a bit, his surprise getting the better of him. What the  _actual fuck_? How the hell did this guy walk around with enough ignorant obliviousness to kill a man at twenty paces?

Fuckwad’s brow furrowed as he read, his attention focused so completely on invading Jesse's privacy that he missed both Jesse’s astonished surprise and the way he clenched his jaw and closed his eyes.

That was actually kind of disappointing.

Jesse’s exasperated “if you could just stop bothering me with your continued existence” face was dubbed a perfect copy of Gabe’s, as voted on by a panel of experts (Jack and Ana).

“Hey doll, is that you in  _Wolfhound_? Mind if we join?” Fuckwad read aloud, over-pronouncing the words like an elderly person trying to understand a meme.

Jesse turned to look out the large front window overlooking the Wolfhound's small collection of outdoor seating, thankfully missing Fuckwad mumble out a confused, “less than 3? What the hell is this idiot trying to say?”

Jesse’s eyes scanned the sidewalk outside and quickly picked his hopeful savior out of the steady stream of people.

Genji was pretty easy to spot in a crowd after all.

Currently his best friend’s bright green hair was stuck up a bit with sweat, the tattoo he’d gotten a few years back to (almost) match his brother’s bared by one of the black tank tops he wore on his morning runs. Ramen, his dog and the love of Jesse’s life, was just tall enough for her head to peek up through the bottom of the window.

Jesse smiled widely and waved, watching Genji’s face go from pensive to pleased as he opened the door for himself and his dog. Ramen’s head swung around as she sniffed the new smells, her tail pinwheeling behind her.

Genji threaded his way through the tables of the coffee shop and pulled out the last chair at Jesse’s table, plopping down into it with a gusty sigh and a groan that was probably inappropriate for the public—

Well. That’s what he  _usually_  did.

Instead, Genji sidled by the table to Jesse’s side and curled a hand underneath his chin, pulling his face up and to the side before he bent down to press a series of damp kisses along his jawline.

Jesse's brain stuttered to a momentary halt.

Genji smelled like sweat and hot weather, only a trace of the fancy aftershave he used having survived his workout. Which was too bad really, Jesse loved that stuff. Genji kept a spare of at Jesse’s house for the weekends he passed out on his couch instead of heading home and whenever he used it before he left the bathroom smelled like him for hours. Jesse definitely hadn't lingered in the bathroom reorganizing drawers several times just to smell it for a bit longer.

The touches were incredibly familiar and intensely strange at the same time. He and Genji were close and both of them were affectionate people sure, but there were hugs and melodramatic smacking kisses on the cheek and then there was  _this_.

Genji had never kissed him like it meant something before.

He pulled back and winked at Jesse, the gesture hidden from Fuckwad by the angle of his face, the scarring around his mouth pulled tight by his smile, eyes alight with mischief.

Ah. That’s how they were playing this.

Jesse reached up, hooking his own hand around the back of Genji’s neck and dragging him back down to press a kiss to both corners of his grinning mouth, giving as good as he'd gotten.

“Hey darlin’, how are you today?” He asked after he pulled back, pushing a little at Genji’s shoulders and dragging the last chair at his table over with his foot.

Genji fell into it once it was close enough, his body turned to face Jesse’s, his flesh hand reaching out and threading their fingers together. It was hot except for the palm, damp and cold where he’d probably been holding his water bottle during his run.

“I was fine before but I’m better now. I missed you.” He whined the last part a little, lips pulling down into the smallest of pouts. Jesse’s eyes lingered on it for a moment—thoughts about warm, soft skin and slick muscle racing through his mind.

He forced himself to look up to Genji’s face and sincerely hoped that the knowing look in Genji’s eyes was about something else.

Fuckwad cleared his throat, drawing their attention back to him. He looked flustered and Jesse really wanted it to be because he’d realized he was unwelcome.

It wasn’t, of course.

“Excuse me,” he said, as though he had any right to be offended. “That was very rude. We were having a conversation.” He flapped his hand between Jesse and himself, apparently under the impression that Jesse had been a willing participant in that, as well as that they’d been having a conversation which, no.

Jesse had watched Gabe help Fareeha rehearse for plays before.

He knew a monologue when he saw one.

“Uh, yeah. You  _are_  being rude,” Genji said snootily, in the tones of the valley girl he very much was not. “Trying to pick up my boyfriend right in front of me like that.” He shook his head, tutting like a disappointed parent looking at their child’s mediocre report card.

Jesse’s heart skipped a beat then tripped when it tried to steady itself. It was…weird, hearing Genji call him his boyfriend.

Weird, but not bad. Definitely not bad.

Fuckwad sat back, shoulders hunching up defensively. “And  _you_  are bringing an animal into a business establishment,” he said, lips pursed in annoyance. He probably intended it to be intimidating, a display of anger.

It mostly just looked like he’d sucked on a lemon.

Genji snorted, rolling his eyes and moving his hand down to rub at Ramen’s ears. He didn’t bother unlacing their fingers at first, leaving Jesse with no option but to pet her as well. A truly great sacrifice but one he was willing to make.

“Can you just not read the ‘pet friendly’ sign at the door?” Genji asked, sounding almost painfully unimpressed. He stroked Ramen a few more times before freezing in place and shooting a quick, faux-distressed look at Jesse.

“Have I been making fun of an illiterate person?” He asked, voice going melodramatically worried before he stopped, frowning even deeper, as though disturbed by something.

He was, Jesse wasn’t particularly surprised to see, a pretty good actor.

“Will you still love me if I’m an asshole?” He whisper-shouted to Jesse, sounding truly concerned and just loud enough for Fuckwad to overhear from his side of the table, even if he wasn't trying, though he no doubt was.

Jesse chuckled and, for lack of a better response, tangled their fingers back together. Well that, and maybe because holding Genji’s hand was a good deal nicer than he would have thought.

Fuckwad huffed.

“Fine, I can tell when I’m not wanted,” he said, pushing his chair back from the table with an unpleasant squeal and glaring at Genji.

Jesse stared back, muscles tensing, waiting to see if he decided to start any real trouble with them or not.

He didn’t much care for punching people these days, liked to avoid it really, if he could. But he’d done stupider things for Genji than break some bastards jaw at their favorite breakfast joint, and he didn’t see that stopping any time soon.

Thankfully, Fuckwad had apparently found a pot he wasn’t willing to stir because he looked away first. He dug something out of his pocket and scribbled on it briefly with one of his pens before slapping it down on the table and marching away.

They both blinked after him, surprised by the suddenness of his exit.

“…maybe he actually _could_ tell when he wasn’t wanted,” Genji commented, still staring at the door. He sounded like he couldn’t quite believe it himself.

Jesse chuckled, shaking his head, equally confused but too pleased by his newfound freedom to care.

“No way in hell, I never wanted him here and he didn’t care ‘bout that any.” He poked Genji in the bicep, right on one of his tattoo dragon’s bright green scales.

“I think you might just be scary, darlin’,” he teased fondly, though he was only half joking. Genji drew second glances and flat out stares pretty often, sometimes for the scars and the obvious prosthetic; sometimes for the full sleeve tattoo and not-quite-neon-but-damn-close hair. It was a pretty even toss up for whether people would use kiddie gloves on him or treat him like a thug. 

Genji leaned forward across the table, grabbing the little card he’d set down and holding it up to the light. “Brady- call me some time. Oooh, he left you his number,” he read, more than a little amused. He looked back up at Jesse, raising an eyebrow and smirking.

“Would you like his card, Jess? Have another thrilling hostage situation?” He waved it in his hand, like he was trying to make it look more enticing.

It didn’t work.

Jesse gagged and shuddered, a little bit for dramatic effect but mostly because that was the appropriate level of horror for that proposition.

“Not for all the money in the world darlin’,” he said, though it came out sounding more like a promise than he'd intended.

Genji didn’t respond, just gazed at him silently for a few long moments.

Jesse looked back, frowning a little. It wasn’t like Genji to give up such a good mocking subject so soon.

“Somethin’ wrong?” He asked, not concerned about Genji quite yet but prepared to be.

He hadn’t seen Fuckwad do or say anything that Genji might honestly be insulted by but there was always the chance that there had been more on that little note than he’d mentioned.

Rather than answer verbally Genji’s eyes moved, slow and obvious, from Jesse’s face to his hand then back up.

…Oh.

 _Their_ hands, entwined together, resting on top of one of Genji’s thighs, Jesse’s arm braced across Ramen’s furry shoulders.

It felt so easy, so natural to be close to Genji like that he’d forgotten they were touching. Which, in itself, felt a bit weird. He and Genji were close but absent-minded hand holding was a bit beyond the normal bounds of friendship.

Jesse looked back up at Genji and smiled sheepishly, trying not to let on how much he didn’t want to let go of the other man’s hand.

He’d talked to Genji about many things over the years and, while he’d never regretted any of the things they’d shared, the shuddery warmth spreading through his stomach was too new to mention yet.

“Ah, sorry about that, got a little lost there for a minute.” He apologized and tried to draw his hand back, wondering if next week was too soon to bring it up.

He couldn’t move his hand.

Jesse blinked, looking from Genji’s mostly blank face to their stubbornly interconnected fingers. He tried to pull back again. Nothing.

Genji wasn’t clutching his hand tight or anything but his grip was too firm to break out of easily. Not that Jesse was really that eager to get away but still, if Genji wanted him to let go _he_ also had to let go.

Jesse eyed Genji, not sure if he was more worried or confused. Genji didn’t seem freaked out by the situation at least, which was good. Jesse didn’t think he was the type, especially since Genji had been the one to instigate the whole ‘couple’ thing.

“If you want me to let go you’re gonna have to help. That isn’t the hand that comes off ya know.” A pause. “Well, that’s _supposed_ to come off anyway.”

That got a snort out of Genji, which quickly dissolved into a quiet laugh and thankfully wiped the solemn look off his face.

Jesse smiled, feeling rather pleased with himself. Genji didn’t get into ‘moods’ often anymore, was more prone to laughter than tears at this point, but it was always nice to be the one to make Genji laugh like that.

Genji stopped after a bit and shook his head, his smile stuck at the corners of his mouth. “I wasn’t saying you had to let go, anyway.” He said, looking even more amused when it took Jesse a second to catch on to the subject.

“You didn’t really look very encouragin’.” Jesse pointed out.

Genji scrunched his face up in thought, before he tilted his head in assent.

“…Alright, true,” he allowed, graciously. “But to be fair I was thinking about something.”

Jesse felt his eyebrows creep up his forehead and he leaned forward a little, resting some of his weight on the table. The movement made him very conscious of the way he and Genji still held onto each other. He swallowed hard, throat clicking loudly and suddenly uncomfortably dry.

“Really? Must’ve been thinking awful hard.” Jesse said, voice coming out a bit lower than he intended.

Genji hummed. “Yes, it’s pretty important after all. I wouldn’t want to screw it up.” There was a spark in his eyes, warm and humored, mischievous—but not joking or taunting. Playful.

Something fluttered in Jesse’s stomach. He felt like he might know what they were talking about. He hoped.

“That so?” He asked, nothing more than a whisper.

“That’s so,” Genji confirmed, leaning forward just far enough to brush their lips together once, soft and sweeter than Jesse would have thought. Genji pulled back after just a moment, tilting his head to the side and pressing their cheeks together as he whispered into Jesse’s ear.

There was something about it—the feel of smooth skin and scars against his face, the warmth of Genji’s body heat, his voice low and husky at Jesse’s ear—it was almost, in a way, more intimate than the kiss.

“Hey Jesse, this okay?”

“I’d say it’s the best idea we’ve ever had.”

A chuckle then, quiet and incredibly close.

“That so?”

“That’s so.”

**Author's Note:**

> *It's mentioned vaguely in the story but yes, Genji and Jesse retain most of their canonical injuries and certain elements of their backstories (though Jesse was never in Deadlock and there are no spirit dragons).
> 
> *9-24-18: This fic was previously posted on a trial basis due to its age, but I'm more okay with it now that I've edited it a bit more and people seem to like it fine as it is so no, it is in no danger of being deleted.
> 
> Kudos and comments are appreciated and feel free to let me know if you spot any errors since I tried to catch 'em but there's no doubt more in there.
> 
> +My tumblr (for writing and fandom stuff) is fiction-over-facts, so feel free to check that out or talk to me if you want?


End file.
